One of These Things is Not Like the Others
by RagstheMuffin
Summary: J'onn has a heart-to-heart with his father about one of his agents, in the middle of the night, over coffee. This was going to be longer originally, but I discovered in this one quiet little moment, J'onn says what I wanted him to say, and decided to leave it at that.


J'onn didn't think he, or any of them really, gave Winn nearly enough credit.

He thought this while he sat in the apartment he had rented for himself and his father. Myr'nn was asleep. He didn't seem to sleep much at all, and seldom peacefully, so J'onn had no desire to wake him, choosing instead to sit in the silence with a beer and his thoughts.

He was proud of the DEO. His agents, particularly Alex, were a skilled team. They had been through some rough patches – many of them had been through hell itself, actually. But they came through in the end. They did their job adequately and admirably and he smiled thinking on how lucky he was to be leading them. Books had been written on how a good team is the reflection of right leadership, and then about how a leader is only as good as the people they led. It contented him.

But it was the one agent who was never supposed to be there in the first place that captured most of his attention tonight.

Agent Winn Schott, formerly of CatCo Worldwide Media, now an efficient operator with a skillset J'onn hadn't even begun to put down on paper.

With that realization, J'onn leaned to one side so he could comfortably pull his cellphone from his pocket. There were a few message notifications, mostly from superiors, suppliers, and low-level but in-the-know politicians. For the moment, he ignored all of these. As much as J'onn loved and, really, lived for his work, if it didn't include an alien invasion or otherworldly disturbance… Well. For once, he was off the clock.

He sorted through some files he could access from the DEO database cloud and settled on what he needed: Winn's file.

It was alarmingly sparse, filled out with info he could have fairly easily recited from memory and in only a few minutes of time. And it was all strictly professional. Winn's personal background that might be relevant was a few paragraphs which mostly concerned his father. It wasn't the young agent's distant past that J'onn wanted to focus on, however. No, he was much more interested in Winn's recent history.

How long had it taken Winn to wrestle a roomful of computers into his control the moment he was invited in? How long had J'onn's other technicians stood in a mixture of amusement and awe watching the short stranger at work before J'onn had needed to prompt them to get back to their jobs? And how much time did it take for him to realize Winn and his inventions and innovations were making a handful of the other agents' jobs nearly obsolete?

Switching the file to editing mode, J'onn began to type.

At some point, Myr'nn stirred and looked over at his son. "What is it you are working on at this time?" he asked, semi-incredulous and with a hint of judgmental concern. He was up and peering over J'onn's shoulder before getting a reply, surprisingly spry and healthy for his age and all that he had been through.

"Winslow Percival Schott Jr.," Myr'nn pronounced with care, the consonants of Winn's full name coming out sharply as he worked at reading the English words. "Ah," he hummed knowingly. "That is the boy who told me where the restrooms were located."

J'onn chuckled, remembering. "Yes. Winn is a good agent. I'm not sure I've been appreciating how good of an agent he really is."

Myr'nn laughed too now, going to sit back down in his own chair across from his son. Their apartment was still unfurnished. Neither one of them wanted much in the way of decoration, and just the comfort of chairs and beds was something to get used to for Myr'nn. "He is one of your agents? He does not look like one of them. He does not even behave like one of them."

J'onn shook his head, saving what he had added to the DEO cloud. "No, he doesn't. He was just Supergirl's friend until Alex suggested having him help during a mission. His insight was vital to our success."

"And now?"

"Now…" J'onn dropped the professional dialogue and sighed. "I'm not sure how well the DEO could function without him."

"That's a lot of weight to place on one man, and not very wise," Myr'nn warned. "That is why you have so many agents, is it not? One soldier is not an army, one student is not an academy."

"Oh, it wasn't supposed to end up that way," J'onn said.

He explained, since Myr'nn seemed interested and he himself had a tongue-loosening amount of liquor from the alien bar in him, how he had originally invited Winn into the fold on a probationary basis. Like a test drive. Then he had to explain what a test drive was to his father and abandoned the Earth method of cliché analogies. In the end, they got around to how Winn had quickly jumped from some excitable kid with a knack for, well for most things; to filling both J'onn's and Alex's shoes on occasion in heading up the DEO strategizing and mission command from the base.

"He still is an excitable kid," J'onn finished with a deep chuckle. "I've been on this planet for a long time and he knows far more random information about it and its culture than I do." To his knowledge, Winn had never been tested for his ability to recall almost anything, but he wouldn't be surprised to learn Winn had didactic memory or something similar. He added "schedule personal testing for Winn" to his never-ending mental to-do list.

Myr'nn nodded while this was all explained. "You made an error in your assessment," he said at the end.

J'onn looked at him sharply. "What error?"

His father gestured at J'onn's phone. "In that list you are working on of his abilities. His coming to your aid is not an actual ability. It is not a statistic or a direct evaluation of his skills."

J'onn glanced back down at the screen. His monosyllabic detailing of how Winn had gone running to stop Jeremiah Danvers when J'onn was in trouble showed clearly in the text. He rubbed his jaw with his unoccupied hand and sat for a minute with it covering the lower half of his face, propping up his chin. He hadn't even realized he had slipped from a list of Winn's technical knowledge into a report of that incident.

He only knew pieces of it firsthand, and the rest from the DEO footage. He still remembered opening his eyes after Jeremiah had taken him by surprise and thrown him through a wall, temporarily incapacitating him. When he started to get up, the first thing he noticed was the alarms going off – Winn had triggered them – and the second was the group of black-suited DEO agents lying unconscious in the hall, and the plaid-wearing Winn lying as though lifeless in the middle of them. He'd been quite certain the sandy-haired nerd was dead as he went after Jeremiah a second time. _"What have you done?!"_ was a shout that demanded a lot of things. The deep betrayal from a man who he owed everything to, and the fear that it had cost Winn's life met in unbridled rage. He could never have faced Kara if something happened to the young man on his watch, and that the threat had come from Jeremiah only made it worse.

Afterward, before Vazquez had insisted he see the security footage of the fight, what had he done? Given Schott a minute to gather himself in the med bay before reminding him he had a job to do. It was part of being the commanding officer at the DEO, he supposed, but someone else could have run those diagnostics. Probably.

It had been Winn's forward thinking to place a tracker on Jeremiah that led to them finding him again at all. In a short break between realizing Cadmus had turned Danvers, and them finding Cadmus and Jeremiah in the forest, Vasquez pulled J'onn aside and showed him the footage.

"He's good at this, sir," Vasquez had said. Any jealousy in her voice was covered over by a grudging respect. "Really good."

Winn had been in the next lab, running algorithms, bowing his head and wincing between keyed commands. Oblivious to the fact that he was the subject of his boss's conversation.

Watching the footage, J'onn was astounded that Jeremiah's attack hadn't broken Winn's neck. But Winn, despite Alex's occasional comments and the smattering of complaints from other agents that he was fragile, had not complained, only gone to do his job. He did that a lot, J'onn thought as he tried to come up with a way to explain this all to Myr'nn.

"There." Myr'nn waited to interrupt the memory until it reached its end and J'onn was jarred into considering his father had been reading his mind. It still took some getting used to recovering the bond the two telepaths had once shared. " _That_ is quite clearly what you should be focusing on." He had his 'father voice' on. The voice of a prophet, a teacher. "It is one's character that determines how we should value their strengths and abilities."

J'onn nodded, smiling again. "He's a good kid."

"A good agent," Myr'nn amended. "Are there more of those stories?"

"Yes. A lot of them." He thought back on what he knew of Winn's behavior, now conscious of Myr'nn following his memories. Everything Winn had done for the Starhaven girl, his compassion even for Siobhan, rescuing Mon-el from an incredibly strong telepath with the help of a stapler, talking to and calming a floor of people trapped in a burning building, going after Cat Grant's runaway son and discovering the bomber, assisting Lena Luthor, manning the portal, stabilizing the core when the White Martians attacked, and all the times he spoke and Kara immediately took him at his word. Even his occasional shenanigans with Guardian. There was also the time, before J'onn knew him, that he had been placed in a situation with no good outcomes, forced to attack one man or let hundreds of innocents suffer, and he had tried to go through with it only to realize he still couldn't pull the trigger. He had even come straight to J'onn to tell him that Myr'nn needed time and a place outside of the DEO.

"I see," Myr'nn said. "And you?"

"What about me?" J'onn locked the phone screen and set the device aside. He wasn't in the mood to passively list learned abilities and practical knowledge assessments when he'd rather fill the document with commendations based largely on stories that weren't in there but should have been. He aimed an accusatory glare at the half empty bottle he had set on the floor between his feet as though it were to blame for his sudden sentimentality. It probably was.

"It is obvious, my son, that this Winn thinks very highly of you. You say he was Supergirl's friend before and above any of this, and yet it was you whose side he barely left at your - what was it, that holiday… that festivity we enjoyed?"

"Christmas party," J'onn supplied absently. "I'm his boss. We've been through some scrapes together, and we were relaxing, away from saving the planet and fighting who knows what every day. I guess it's true we've become friends." He wasn't sure if he said that because other than M'gann and now his father, he didn't have many relationships outside of the DEO, or if he said it simply because it was so.

"Winn's father is incarcerated," J'onn went on. He missed this, just talking to his own father. Enjoying conversation, enjoying counsel. "I'm afraid I have a tendency to try and mold him…discipline him and push him along like with Alex. The problem is," he huffed a laugh. "Winn isn't Alex."

"Plainly."

"In fact, he's impetuous and he hardly ever takes anything seriously. I would go as far to say that at times his behavior toward myself can be almost disrespectful." Hugs, jests, familiar nicknames? They didn't have a place at the DEO, J'onn thought, and yet at the same time he knew he was going to go on letting them happen. Winn made him smile, and he had helped them save the universe countless times. As far as J'onn was concerned, Winn Schott could have all the nerf guns, chicken wings, and license to use the term "Papa Bear" that he wanted, and J'onn would tolerate it all with little more than an amused shake of his head.

"Hmm," Myr'nn said.

J'onn's brow lifted. "What does that mean?

"It means," his father began slowly, "I would like some coffee."

A check of the clock told J'onn it was almost 2am. "Father, I explained to you. Coffee has a stimulating effect–"

"My son. It is clear neither of us are sleeping. I might as well enjoy some coffee."

Standing, J'onn gathered his bottle from the floor and placed a hand on his father's knee. "Coming right up."

The Keurig on the kitchen counter was a gift from Kara, something about how she hated Myr'nn to only have black boiled coffee when there were espresso shots and raspberry flavoring to be had. It buzzed and steamed for a minute for two cups of coffee. J'onn's was a moderate and simple dark roast. Myr'nn's was some concoction of sugars and flavorings that no amount of world-travel had taught J'onn how to pronounce.

"Here you are," he said, walking back to the armchairs.

"Thank you." Myr'nn gratefully sipped the drink, closing his eyes in enjoyment.

J'onn smiled and took a small drink of his own.

"You hold the answer in your hands," Myr'nn said.

Paused with his mug still at his lips, J'onn eyed his father over the rim. Given Myr'nn's past occupation, it wasn't uncommon for him to speak in mild riddles, but J'onn didn't find this one particularly enlightening.

Myr'nn chuckled and took another drink of his coffee. "I am not being obtuse," he said. He took his time explaining "Your Agent Winn is young, and like you he has had to grow into the person he is without a father's guide." Sadness shadowed his expression for a passing moment. "You're not wrong for wanting to latch onto that. He works hard for your approval, and he clearly cares for you and seeks out your companionship. If he seems disrespectful it isn't a lack of respect for you, but a difference between the discipline of the agents you have trained for years, and the freely bestowed loyalty of a person who is not and never will be a soldier."

"I suppose that makes sense," J'onn allowed. "To be honest, I don't think I ever looked at it that way. His work is exemplary. He's a genius, way beyond what he or the rest of us acknowledge. But I still don't understand what you meant. How is the answer in my hands?"

Myr'nn pointed at the coffee mug J'onn held. Large block letters printed across the ceramic side announced 'World's Best Boss.'

A swallow of coffee went down a little too quickly and J'onn cleared his throat several times.

"Ah," Myr'nn laughed, waving his hand. "You see. You are more to the boy Winn than just a boss. What was it he called you? Papa Bear." Giggling like a child, Myr'nn had to put his own mug down so that it didn't spill. "Be that person for the boy, J'onn. He's already asked you to."

J'onn stared at the mug, Winn's Christmas gift, and shook his head.

"Maybe, though…" His father was still shaking with mirth. "Don't put that in your reports."


End file.
